Transfusion
by TitansRule
Summary: The sequel to Traditions in two parts: Coming Home - Damon and Katherine find ways entertain themselves in Stefan and Elena's absence, including a special trip and some important conversations. Born to Rule - The rebellion in New Orleans is more than it appears, and Caroline is the only one who can do anything about it.


**AN: This is the sequel to Traditions, so you might want to read that first. The first five chapters of this story follow Damon and Katherine while Stefan and Elena are on their honeymoon, and then we'll join Caroline.**

Part One - Coming Home

Chapter One

The boarding house was almost suspiciously quiet, but there really was no reason for anyone to be concerned.

The house was dark, the only sign of life the soft glow of the fire in the library. Katherine was curled up in one of the wingback chairs, a book in one hand and a glass of blood-laced bourbon in the other.

Stefan and Elena had been away for a month and, judging by the cheerful postcards that kept arriving, were having a wonderful time.

Both Damon and Katherine would insist that they couldn't care less what their housemates were doing, but the fact remained that the postcards were all stuck to the refrigerator and, although Damon and Katherine wouldn't admit it, they were both bored stiff.

Damon was up in the attic somewhere – unless he'd decided to go out hunting without her – supposedly 'de-cluttering'.

Earlier that day, he had announced that there was too much 'stuff' being hoarded in the house, and that he was going to do something about it.

Katherine was fairly certain that, for all his insistence to the contrary, nothing would actually leave the house – just get moved around a bit.

At that moment, he reappeared. He said nothing, but poured himself a drink and settled into the chair opposite her.

Katherine glanced up at him, a smile crossing her face. She wasn't one for reminiscing as a rule, but the quiet of the house, the soft glow of the fire, brought back memories of the few days they had spent at the lake-house, hiding from the world, in 1864.

When she caught sight of his darkened expression, however, the smile slid from her face. "What did you find?"

"My father's journal." Damon answered flatly. "I read through it when we were trying to open the tomb, to see if he knew where Emily's grimoire was, but I just flicked through it again."

Katherine set her book aside and leaned forwards. "And?"

"He knew I deserted." Damon finally looked up to meet her eyes, and she almost flinched at the light shining in them. "He knew I deserted, and he did nothing. That's got to count for something, right?"

Damon spent so much time resenting – even hating – his father, that Katherine sometimes forgot that somewhere deep inside him, there was still a young boy who had just lost his mother and craved his father's love and approval.

"Damon …" Katherine hesitated. She could lie, of course. It was unlikely that Damon would ever know. But if he _did_ find out, he would never forgive her.

Crossing the floor to settle herself in his lap, Katherine gently carted her fingers through his hair, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. "Damon …"

"What?" Damon asked, almost visibly deflating.

Katherine sighed. "Do you remember the night I told you what I was?"

A small smile graced Damon's face. "How could I forget …?"

_The moonlight trickled through the window, but the two lovers hidden away in Damon's bedchamber paid it little attention._

_His lips travelled down Katherine's throat, lavishing her skin with attention, and she let her head fall back, not quite allowing herself to relax completely._

_"I love you." Damon murmured against her pulse point, and something twinged uncomfortably within her. He lifted his head, his eyes drinking her in with wondering adoration. "How did I ever survive without you?"_

_Katherine gave him a coy smile. "Oh, I'm sure you managed."_

_Damon lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. "You're my angel, Katherine, I don't know what I'd do without you."_

_"You'd manage." Katherine repeated, a little coldly. For three hundred years, she had survived without her humanity, and it irked her a little that this boy (man) could unintentionally tease it out of her with a few words and a smile._

_He was just so … innocent. A boy trapped in a man's body._

_She desired him, that was all. It was purely physical attraction, and he happened to be very talented, unselfish (unlike so many men), at bringing her pleasure._

_That was the only reason she continued to carry on with Damon in private while his brother courted her in public._

_The only reason._

_His naivety irritated her a little._

_Didn't he realise she could kill him without a second thought?_

_Of course he didn't._

_Unlike his brother, he had no idea of the darkness that lurked behind her smile._

_"You'd manage." She said for a third time. "I'm not an angel, Damon. Not even close."_

_Blood crept into her eyes, dark veins skittering across her cheeks as her fangs descended. Her body screamed for his blood, wanting to tear into his skin, punish him for daring to make her feel again after so long._

_The house was big enough, her compulsion would not be needed until the following morning, no one would hear him scream._

_But he didn't scream._

_She watched fear enter his eyes with some kind of morbid fascination, but he didn't scream._

_"Are you a vampire?" He whispered, his hand racing to trace the raised veins on her face._

_"Yes." Katherine answered, postponing any action, now beyond curious. "I'm a vampire. Not an angel."_

_His gaze had dropped to her fangs, but now it rose again and she bit back a gasp, seeing that the fear had melted away to the same love had been there previously. "You're __my__ angel." He repeated. "Vampire or not. I love you, Katherine."_

_Something was creeping up inside Katherine's chest, wrapping itself around her tightly. Her face relaxed on its own accord, and she hastily pulled away from him. "I … I have to go. Emily …" She trailed off, unable to think of a good excuse, and then didn't even bother trying to find one, fleeing the room and almost running to the opposite side of the house._

_There, in the dark confines of an alcove, Katherine attempted to school herself. Emotion was trying to force its way back into her heart, she could no longer pretend that her feelings for Damon were purely physical, but she fought it, and she fought hard._

_Then, just as she was about to concede defeat, a door opened down the hallway. Faced with the inevitability of meeting someone, Katherine was able to force her guard back up, her face melting into calm neutrality. As she left the alcove, Giuseppe Salvatore rounded the corner, looking surprised to see her._

_"Miss Pierce!"_

_"Mr Salvatore," Katherine greeted, dipping a quick curtsey. "I do hope I didn't disturb you."_

_"Of course not, of course not." Giuseppe seemed harried, almost as though he was speaking to her purely out of civility._

_Katherine tilted her head. "Mr Salvatore … are you feeling alright? You seem shaken."_

_"Miss Pierce, I couldn't possibly trouble you with an old man's worries."_

_Katherine laughed daintily. "Hardly an old man, sir … Someone once told me that a problem shared is a problem halved … Perhaps it would hold true here."_

_Giuseppe sighed. "Miss Pierce, I fear it is something a young lady such as yourself would find utterly disgraceful."_

_Katherine took a step towards him, laying a careful hand on his arm. "Tell me." She said softly._

_All the vampires knew some of the townspeople were aware of vampires, but how close they were, she couldn't be sure. Until she was, they had agreed that compulsion should not be attempted on any of the founding families – just in case someone had managed to get their hands on some vervain._

_Giuseppe sighed distantly. "There comes a time, Miss Pierce, when a man must choose between his loyalty to his country and his family."_

_Katherine waited silently, her undead heart beginning to beat harder. _

_"I suppose it will come out eventually." He continued, absently folding the letter in his hands. "My … No, he is no son of mine …"_

_"Damon?" Katherine guessed softly._

_"Yes. He has deserted the Confederacy."_

_Katherine gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. From the expression on his face, it was clear he thought she agreed with his disgust, but she wasn't acting._

_It had suddenly struck her what he was going to do._

_The letter in his hands was not informing him of the situation, it was meant to inform._

_And when it arrived at the base in a few days' time, Damon's life would hang in the balance. If those in charge didn't dispatch a firing squad, then it was likely his former comrades would form one themselves._

_Fear flooded her, a fear she hadn't felt in over three hundred years, and she acted without conscious thought or care for the consequences._

_Catching his eye, she waited for her compulsion to take hold before speaking. "You are not going to tell anyone that Damon has deserted. You are going to give me that letter and pretend you never wrote it. Your loyalty is to your son, whatever your personal feelings towards his desertion may be. We never had this conversation."_

_Blankly, Giuseppe handed her the letter, turned around and returned to his study._

_Letting out a breath, Katherine blurred back to her bedchamber, shutting and locking the door, before tearing the letter into tiny scraps and throwing it into the fireplace._

_"Miss Katherine?" Emily asked softly, from the adjoining door. "Is everything alright?"_

_"No." Katherine said in a low voice, tears beginning to well in her eyes. "I'm feeling, Emily. And it __hurts__."_

As Katherine's story came to a close, she forced herself to meet Damon's eyes. He looked torn, unsure whether he should be grateful nor not.

"Damon?"

"He wanted me dead." Damon said flatly. His mouth curved into a humourless smirk. "Didn't think it was possible for him to hate me more than I hated him."

"I could have killed him." Katherine said a low voice. "If fear hadn't hit first …"

"That's how your humanity turned back on?" Damon asked suddenly. "I thought it was because you fell in love with me."

Katherine laughed. "Silly boy," she said affectionately, "it was because I was already in love with you. The idea of you dying was so awful that it scared me more than anything."

"He wanted me dead." Damon repeated, shaking his head.

"I didn't want to tell you." Katherine admitted. "Stefan said I should – was he right?"

"My brother, for all his faults, generally knows me pretty well." Damon said, quite obscurely. "I'd rather know. Makes me feel much better about hating Father's guts." He pressed a kiss into the hollow of her throat. "Can you change the subject?"

"Alright." Katherine agreed, a little reluctantly. "You were kidding when you said that your best man speech was their wedding gift, right?"

"No." Damon said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not getting them a toasted sandwich maker when we both know they're not moving out."

"Damon!" Katherine protested. "I know it seems pointless, but you can't just say something nice and call it a present!"

"Sure I can." Damon said dismissively. "This is hardly the change of subject I had in mind."

Katherine sighed. "Then _you_ change the subject."

"Alright." Damon agreed, a glint in his eye. "I found my old Confed uniform up there. I seem to recall it having a rather strong effect on you back in the day."

Katherine let him draw her in, a smirk crossing her lips. "I do love a man in uniform." She purred. "Do you have your old WWII one as well?"

Damon raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know about that?"

"I was stalking you." Katherine whispered. "Don't tell anyone. Nearly smacked Lexi for that one."

Damon's brow creased. "You saw that, huh?"

"Mm-hmm. Well done for still going. Whatever she said, you and Stefan needed each other."

"Stefan didn't think so." Damon grumbled.

"Stefan didn't …" Katherine looked puzzled for a second, then her face cleared. "Oh … Damon, have you spent the last 70 years thinking that Stefan told Lexi to tell you to leave?" She shook her head. "Damon, he didn't tell her. Unless you've told him, he might not even know now."

"Crap." Damon sighed. "So I've been mad at my brother for 70 years for something he didn't do, and my own girl just cockblocked me."

Katherine laughed. "In my defence, I thought you knew. _Do _you have your old WWII uniform? Because you looked _really_ hot in that."

"I'm sure I can find it." Damon assured her with a wink. "In the meantime, I'm rather shell-shocked and in need of comfort."

"Of course." Katherine murmured, running her lips down his throat. "And while I comfort you, you can tell me what you're up to."

"Up to?" Damon asked.

"You haven't been in the attic." Katherine told him absently, nipping at his collarbone. "You'd be all dusty if you were. And your father's journal would have been in your room or Stefan's, if you used it when you were trying to get into the tomb. So what were you up to?"

Damon sighed. "Well, I figured, since Stefan and Elena are getting a vacation, that maybe we should take one too. Just for a few days. Change of pace. Change of scenery."

"Alright." Katherine agreed easily, arching into his touch as his hand slipped beneath her shirt to caress her gently. "Where are we going?"

Damon smirked. "Now that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn't it?"


End file.
